


you left me no choice but to stay here forever

by coffeecatsme



Series: you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Roommates, Supervillain AU, TW: mentions of non consensual sex, TW: mentions of rough non consensual sex, TW: mentions of underage non consensual sex, and luke "works" for him, kind of, prepare your tissues, this is basically a 14k angst fest, vader is a crime boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29238057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecatsme/pseuds/coffeecatsme
Summary: The posting is on the lower left corner. With large, black lettering against a purely white background, it looks out of place. Several pieces are sticking out from underneath with phone numbers. They’re looking for a roommate.Luke is about to snort—seriously, who looks for a roommate at a Starbucks—but then he stops. He eyes the posting for a few more seconds, thoughts whirring in his head. He wonders briefly, very briefly, whether Vader would ever allow him to go live with anyone else.Luke, after years of working as a double agent against his father, Darth Vader's crime empire, looks for alternative living arrangements. Enter Din.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker
Series: you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157504
Comments: 23
Kudos: 287





	you left me no choice but to stay here forever

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of rough, non consensual, underage sexual content; non graphic description of injuries (Note: the sections that include these are labeled in the story. Please please pay attention to the warnings.)
> 
> so. welcome to the angst hell i've been in the last few days. this literally started out as a cute superhero roommates idea in Discord and then turned into a full blown angsty "supervillain" AU. and i'm just. speechless. 
> 
> just. prepare your tissues y'all.
> 
> p.s. title is from right where you left me by Taylor Swift (not gonna lie, i was listening to evermore on repeat writing this. that album is written for dinluke)

Luke stumbles upon the posting only by sheer luck.

It’s a slow day at work— _at both of his workplaces._ Even the henchmen of the biggest crime boss in the city need day offs, and for now, FBI is letting him be as long as his intel checks out. He met up with one of their agents just yesterday, handing off the latest information.

He takes his phone out to look at the news every now and then. He hopes the FBI will be able to stop the planned attack.

Whenever Luke meets with the FBI, it’s always with a different agent, always at a different location, different context. Yesterday it was a petite brunette with sharp green eyes and pointy nose, dressed up in a tight red mini skirt and crop top that looks more like a bra, at a motel room. If anyone questioned it, they would assume Luke just hired a hooker.

Not that anyone ever did. Even the receptionist took one look at him and handed him a room key without asking. Luke made a mental note then to change the motel they’ve been using.

The brunette was fidgety the whole time, going through the files Luke handed him, asking questions. Her eyes flickered to the bruise on Luke’s neck every now and then, curiosity swimming in them. Luke didn’t know whether he should be glad that he didn’t ask about it.

He did, as discreetly as possible, button up his shirt to his neck. At least he could hide the bruises on his chest.

The brunette left the hotel room after gathering everything in her bag. Luke thinks he should’ve felt something like pity or gratitude when she messed up her hair and crumpled her clothes before going out. The first few times he had to look away. The first time ever, he stopped the guy from ripping up his t-shirt.

Now he just watches, his chest hollow. He’s not the fresh-out-of-water nineteen-year-old fumbling through his new position as a double agent anymore. It’s been nine years, and all he can think looking at his supposed one-night-stand is that she won’t have to do this tomorrow, or the next day, the next week, month, _year._ Someone will replace her—someone always does. She’ll move on with her job and life, happy that she contributed something to Darth Vader’s demise.

Luke will be here the next time, offering information to the next agent. Luke can’t move on.

He sighs, pushing away the memories as he fiddles with his phone. There’s no news update about the attack yet so he puts it away, eyes turning to the notice board in the Starbucks behind him. His coffee is yet to be ready, and he starts reading the notices, not expecting anything to come out of it.

The posting is on the lower left corner. With large, black lettering against a purely white background, it looks out of place. Several pieces are sticking out from underneath with phone numbers. They’re looking for a roommate.

Luke is about to snort—seriously, who looks for a roommate at a _Starbucks_ —but then he stops. He eyes the posting for a few more seconds, thoughts whirring in his head. He wonders briefly, very briefly, whether Vader would ever allow him to go live with anyone else.

His name is called. He turns to the barista. He should just grab the coffee and leave, forget about the posting.

Instead, he rips off one of the phone numbers and tucks it into his pocket.

* * *

Two days later, Luke meets Din.

Din Djarin is in his late twenties. He has dark hair that falls on his forehead in light curls, a messy stubble and mustache, and deep brown eyes. His cheeks are slightly collapsed and there are circles under his eyes, no doubt pointing to an exhausting life. Underneath all the black he’s wearing, Luke can tell that he’s athletic, even though he curls his shoulders inward as if in an attempt to hide himself. In another life, Luke might be attracted to him.

All he can muster is gratitude that he’s not turned away.

They meet at Din’s house. It’s a small, two-bedroom place. The living room is cozy with light grey couches, a glass coffee table, and an old TV. It’s connected to the kitchen, and Din apologizes about the mess on the counters. “I wanted to cook before I pick my son up,” he explains.

Luke’s eyes flicker to him. Din has a son. Something akin to yearning crushes his heart, but he pushes it away. He can tell that Din is watching him, trying to gauge his reaction about the presence of a kid at his potential future home. Luke offers him a smile. “That sounds sweet.”

Din’s relief is palpable.

Despite the size of the apartment, Luke is happy to note that both bedrooms have a private bathroom. Din tells Luke that Grogu—his son—sleeps in his room. There’s a second bed tucked at the corner that looks like it hasn’t been slept in for days. Luke is sure that Grogu prefers to sleep in his dad’s bed instead of his own.

He wonders whether he preferred to sleep with his dad when he was younger. Whether Vader ever accepted him into his bed. Somehow, he doubts it.

Luke’s potential room is slightly smaller, but it’s still big enough for one person. It’s smaller than his room at Vader’s place, but Luke doesn’t mind it. It looks warmer.

When Din starts talking about the rent, Luke just nods. He tells Din that he’ll let him know the next day whether he’ll be moving in.

He doesn’t tell him that he thinks it will be impossible to convince Vader that he’s moving out.

* * *

Luke moves in with Din next week.

It’s… _oddly easy_ to convince Vader. He puts up slight objections, but when Luke points out that it might help with the operation’s secrecy, he caves. Vader still thinks that no one knows about Luke’s involvement in his crime network, and this alternate arrangement ensures that Luke is never caught around Vader’s premise.

Luke doesn’t correct him.

All of his stuff fits into one suitcase. He doesn’t have any photos to take, any knick-knacks, any memorabilia that he might like to keep. The only reason the suitcase is even filled is because Luke has a lot of clothes to fit a variety of different situations.

Vader hugs him before he leaves. “I’m proud of you, son,” he whispers. Luke plasters a smile on his face when he pulls back.

“Thanks, dad.”

It’s impossible to tell from his voice that the sentiment is fake. Luke is good at lying—too good, sometimes, that he doesn’t like to think about it.

Vader offers him whatever car he wants, but he refuses. He doesn’t want to have anything that can be tied back to Vader’s crimes. He has enough savings from the FBI to get a new car. It’s a second hand dark blue Ford Focus, nothing as fancy as Vader owns, but it’s enough for him. It’s _his_ , and that’s all he can ask for.

Grogu is still at kindergarten when Luke pulls up to the apartment building, but Din is waiting him at the door. Luke met the kid right after he told Din that he can move in—he’s pretty sure if Grogu didn’t like him at that point, Din wouldn’t actually go through with the arrangement. Grogu was a sweet kid, quiet, but intelligence was oozing out of him. When Luke extended a hand to him with a genuine smile on his face, he looked at the hand for a few seconds, completely ignored it, and then reached his arms up in the universal kid gesture of “pick me up”.

Din stared at them for a solid ten seconds before he said Luke could move in next week.

If Din is curious as to why Luke only has one suitcase, he doesn’t ask. He just takes it from Luke, despite Luke’s protests. Besides, the apartment building has an elevator anyway. Once they’re at Din’s place, Din gives him another tour, even though Luke remembers pretty much every detail. He stays quiet, allowing Din to explain where to find everything in the kitchen, where to put his dirty laundry, where the spare key for the house is. He steals glances at Din every now and then, wondering if the other man knows who exactly he’s inviting to his house. Wondering how the man would feel about his kid living next to the son of a notorious crime boss.

 _No._ He gulps back whatever guilt bloomed in his chest. He’s _not_ Vader’s son anymore. He’s working with the FBI to bring him down. Whatever he did before he switched sides is in the past—should stay in the past. He was young. He didn’t _know_.

He wonders whether he’ll ever believe that.

“Are you okay, Luke?” Din’s voice takes him out of his thoughts. Standing in the middle of his new room, Luke looks up. There’s genuine concern in Din’s eyes, and it’s only with years of experience that Luke manages to keep his face blank.

“Yeah. The place looks nice, Din.” He stops for a second. “Thank you.”

Din doesn’t look like he believes him, but he nods regardless. He steps out of the room, fingers loosely wrapped around the door handle.

“Let me know if you need anything.” Then he leaves, closing the door after him.

Luke lets out a sigh, sitting on the bed, feeling the sheets under his calloused fingers. It’s not as silky or as soft as the bed he had back at Vader’s place, but Luke doesn’t complain. He turns to the closed door. A shiver runs down his spine and he suddenly feels the urge to open the door. Vader would’ve definitely punished him for closing it.

But he’s not with Vader anymore, he reminds himself. He’s with Din.

He slips under the sheets, wrapping the blankets around himself, and curls his arms around his knees. Still, even with the blankets over him, he still feels Vader breathing down his neck. He still can’t shake the fear that a step out of line in this place will mean punishment for him.

Before long he moves out of the bed, cracks the door open, and then returns. He waits for Din to appear by the door, to open it and check inside. He never comes.

Luke must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing he hears is Grogu’s giggles and heavy footsteps, and Din whispering, “Shh, Luke’s asleep. Let’s not wake him up.”

* * *

****TRIGGER WARNING** Mentions of non-consensual underage sexual content**

The first time Luke picked someone up from a bar, he was sixteen.

It was by Vader’s order. _Request,_ as Vader called it, but his requests were never really requests. He handed Luke a fake ID, told him to dress the part, and asked him to plant false evidence at the house of one of Vader’s rivals. Luke walked into the bar with a leather jacket, hair gelled back, hands hooked to his belt loops, and a small vial of a sedative in his pocket.

The sedative didn’t take effect until long after they were back at the man’s house. Luke was limping by the time he left the bed and tucked the falsified files into the man’s work drawer.

He spent the rest of the night in the man’s bathroom, throwing up, his entire body sore and sensitive. When he was finally back home, all Vader cared about was that the evidence was planted. He clapped Luke on his shoulder and told him that he’d make a fine heir to his empire.

He either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the bruise blooming right under Luke’s chin.

Looking back at it now, Luke can’t even recall the disgust he felt that first night. His eyes turn to the woman next to him, sleeping soundly, and in his stomach he just feels hollow. He untangles himself from the sheets, grabbing his clothes by the foot of the bed. He closes the bedroom door behind him and heads to the study he saw on his way in.

There was a time he was looking over his shoulder every five seconds when he was sneaking around someone else’s house. Now, his hands are steady as he turns on the computer, plugging in his USB to hack through the passwords. In a matter of thirty minutes, every bit of information on the computer is downloaded onto his USB.

He doesn’t even bother to glance at the bedroom before he leaves.

* * *

Din doesn’t complain about Luke’s crazy hours.

Most days, Luke is asleep past noon, and never once Din wakes him up. Both Din and Grogu are usually out by the time he wakes up, yet there’s always a note in the kitchen, either telling him that there’s food in the fridge—Din is not that bad a cook—or money left for takeout.

Luke never uses the money. At first, he returns it, but then they turn up on his bedside table, and once it’s clear that Din won’t give up, Luke ends up tucking it into a piggy bank. He knows Grogu’s birthday is approaching—he’s saving up for a gift.

Din also doesn’t care about when Luke gets home. On his lucky days, he’s done with whatever work he has before midnight—usually, if that work doesn’t involve sneaking around. Other days, it’s a miracle if he’s in before 3. Din just asks him to not make a lot of noise when he comes in, and that’s that.

Luke likes the rare days he’s home early—at least early enough that Din is still awake. He usually finds the man in the kitchen, preparing the next day’s food, a cutesy apron wrapped around his waist and several food items dusting his clothes. He greets Luke with a smile and asks him whether he’s hungry.

Almost always, the answer is yes. And almost always, Din puts a piping hot meal in front of Luke. It’s too hot to eat but Luke doesn’t care, enjoying the burn. It grounds him to reality.

Coming home to Din is a far cry from coming home to Vader, who either punishes Luke for his incompetence or congratulates him for a victory, before disappearing into his office. Luke never had a hot meal when he was back at Vader’s place unless he cooked it.

Din never questions why Luke comes in so late. Even on the nights Luke is visibly upset, he just gently grabs Luke’s wrist, squeezes it, and pushes a meal in front of him. A cup of coffee and a piece of chocolate usually follows the meals. Din generally stays quiet, not bothering to fill the long stretches of silence with words, but it’s never awkward. Luke finds comfort in those silences.

It’s two weeks in that Din asks about Luke’s work. It’s 1 am, and Luke is in the middle of munching on Din’s spaghetti. Instead of heading to bed like he usually does, Din sits across from him, sipping his herbal tea, eyes watching Luke’s every movement. He looks exhausted, but Luke doesn’t comment on it.

“What do you do for work?” he asks, his voice soft. Luke freezes with his fork in his hand. He quickly schools his features before he looks up.

“I work with the police.”

“As a detective?” Luke wants to laugh, but he keeps his face blank. He shakes his head.

“More like a consultant.” It couldn’t be closer to the truth, but it’s all he can let Din know without getting himself kicked out of the house. He eyes Din, brow raised. “Why are you asking?”

Din is silent for a moment, just watching Luke. “A friend of mine was looking for a bartender,” he says quietly. “I was thinking of giving him your name. If you wanted a new job.” He doesn’t say it explicitly, but the meaning is clear. Either Luke hasn’t been as discrete about his struggles with… _work_ as he thought he was, or Din is more observant than he gave him credit for. And instead of prodding Luke with questions, he offers a solution.

Luke has to swallow around the knot in his throat. He doesn’t expect just how desperately he wants to accept the offer. Instead, he shakes his head. “Thank you for the offer, but, uh… My job’s fine. Crazy hours and all, but… It’s worth it at the end.” For some reason, the words sound too much like a lie to his ears. He doesn’t want to think about why it’s suddenly so hard to lie.

And if Din realized it, he doesn’t comment. He just nods. When he stands up to grab tea for Luke as well, there are two pieces of chocolate next to it.

* * *

Luke keep his door unlocked whether he’s at home or not.

It’s a habit he picked up over the years living with Vader. There’s no privacy where Vader is—according to him, privacy means you have something to hide. And of course Luke, his son, the heir to his empire, what would he have to hide from his father? So Luke kept his room unlocked, kept his door open all the time, and never brought any FBI business back to his place.

He’s pretty sure Din wouldn’t care at all if he locked his door, but his skin starts crawling even at the thought, so he leaves it open regardless.

Whenever he’s not home, Luke wonders whether Din goes through his stuff. He’s definitely given the man all the reasons to be curious. His crazy work hours. Random cuts and bruises on his arms and throat that can’t all be written off as hickeys. Bandages. Limps. Torn clothes. Din must have _questions._

And yet, whenever Luke comes home, he finds his room undisturbed. The only time there’s any change, he found a note on top of his sheets, Din telling him that he washed them with his own. He checked every nook and cranny of the room that day but didn’t find anything else missing or touched.

It’s one month into living with Din that he closes his door when he leaves the house. He doesn’t lock it, but he does place a toothpick at the upper corner. He doesn’t really think it’ll be there at night.

He’s only slightly startled when the toothpick falls onto his hand after he comes back.

* * *

Five weeks into moving in, Din asks if Luke can watch Grogu for a couple of hours when he’s off taking care of some private business.

Luke stares at Din for long enough that Din arches a brow. “Grogu’s generally quiet. He won’t make a fuss or anything. You can just put on his favorite show and it’s fine.”

 _That’s not the problem,_ Luke thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He reminds himself that Din doesn’t know about his work. His relationship to Vader. His arrangement with the FBI. To Din, he’s just a roommate who works at peculiar hours, and roommates cover each other’s back all the time. To Din, it’s probably a no brainer.

Luke wants to tell him that he really shouldn’t trust Grogu with him.

Not that he’d ever hurt the kid. Grogu is sweet and kind and innocent, everything Luke wishes to be, and he’d lay down his life to protect Grogu. But it doesn’t matter. Anyone who knows who Luke is would never trust him with their kid.

He almost tells Din no, but it’s obvious Din’s in a rush and he doubts it’d be easy to make alternate arrangements. It’s clear that Din trusted Luke to cover for him. Luke bites back his complaints and nods. Relief is palpable in Din’s eyes, and he gives Luke’s shoulder a quick squeeze before he leaves.

The warmth of the touch lingers even as Luke sits next to Grogu on the couch, watching him as he plays with the action figures in his hands. The kid looks up when he feels Luke’s gaze on him, eyes wide and innocent. He offers Luke a toothy smile and extends one of the figures.

“Wanna play?”

Luke can only answer a few seconds later. “Of course,” he whispers, taking the figure with shaky hands. Grogu starts to babble about whatever story he’s building in his head, half of the words meaningless to Luke. He listens regardless, moving the red-haired girl in his hand to match Grogu’s play.

By the time Din comes back, Luke’s hands aren’t shaky anymore. He looks up at the door and catches Din’s eyes. For once, the smile on his face isn’t fake.

* * *

The first time Luke joins Din and Grogu for dinner, it is by complete accident.

Usually, before Din even begins to cook, Luke leaves, even if he doesn’t have anything to do until later. The last thing he wants is to impinge himself on family dinner time. It all changes when one afternoon, his thirty minute nap turns into two hours, and he’s woken up with the smell of lasagna coming from the kitchen.

Din’s eyes find him when he leaves his room, a pink and blue apron wrapped around his waist. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he lets Luke know. “If you want to join us.”

Luke hesitates briefly, watching Din to make sure he’s not offering only to be nice, and then he nods. Despite his fidgety hands, despite the awkward silences, despite feeling out of place, Luke finds that he enjoys the dinner.

After that, whenever he doesn’t have any pressing work, Luke stays for dinner before he leaves. The awkward silences are slowly replaced with soft conversations, and eventually Luke and Din begin to alternate making sure Grogu eats his meal. Luke even helps Din cook every now and then, even though after a scary fire incident, Din doesn’t let him get anywhere close to the stove. He does find out eventually that Luke is good with a knife and lets him deal with the cutting and dicing. “So that’s why you always come home with cuts,” he even deadpans when Luke manages to dice an onion in record time.

Luke just smiles. He doesn’t tell Din that some of his targets like it rough, and Luke needs to tire them out enough to be able to sneak around their house with ease.

Din probably has no idea how much those brief hours of domesticity means to Luke. It’s so simple, really—cooking together, family dinners, gentle laughs, genuine conversations… Things most people had growing up, things they probably take for granted. Children throwing tantrums about not liking the food. Teenagers refusing to show up for meals. Adults eating out, or alone in their homes, instead of meeting up with their friends and families.

If Luke ever threw a tantrum as a kid, he would be locked in his room for the rest of the night, without a meal. If Luke ever refused to show up for dinner, he would be dragged out of his room, and then punished afterwards.

Now he watches Grogu spill spaghetti on the table, and Din just laughs and wipes it away. He watches Grogu refuse to eat vegetables, and Din cuts them in small enough pieces and hides them in soup for the kid. He watches Grogu refuse to come to the dinner table because he’s watching his favorite TV show, and Din puts a blanket on the floor of the living room and they have a mock picnic.

One fateful day, Luke refuses to leave his room during dinner time, claiming he’s not feeling well. He fully expects Din to barge in, check his temperature to see if he’s lying or not, and drag him out so he can help with cooking and sit for dinner. Instead, Din asks him whether he needs any meds through the closed door, and when Luke weakly says no, he just wishes him well and leaves.

Din comes back two hours later and knocks, letting Luke softly know that there’s dinner by the door. Luke smells the lasagna even before he opens the door.

His favorite meal. Even though Tuesdays are fish days. And he’s…not even surprised.

Luke looks out into the living room, father and son curled up on the couch watching something on the TV. He realizes suddenly that he wants to join them. That he’s been getting used to their nightly arrangement. That this…makeshift family somehow became something he can lose.

It’s beyond scary, and he knows the best thing to do would be to go back to his room. To detach himself from Din and Grogu as much as possible. Except then Din looks up and Luke sees the worry shining in his eyes. Luke’s hand tightens around his plate of lasagna and slowly, he makes his way over to the couch.

“Are you feeling better?” Din asks, quiet enough not to bother Grogu. Luke swallows around the knot in his throat and nods.

“Yeah. Thank you for the lasagna.” 

“It’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah.” Luke doesn’t tell Din that the only reason it’s his favorite is that it’s the first meal he had with Din and Grogu. He takes a small bite, watching colorful blobs move around on TV, and a comfortable silence falls on the living room.

Once Luke puts his plate aside on the coffee table, Grogu shifts on the couch. He shimmies out of his father’s arms and moves closer to Luke, cuddling close to his chest. Luke freezes, arm loosely wrapped around Grogu’s waist, the kid’s hair tickling his neck. He looks up at Din, expecting him to yell and take Grogu, keep him safe and away from Luke, but instead Din’s just smiling, arm lazily resting on the back of the couch. Grogu shifts in Luke’s lap and makes a small, whiny noise, as if he wants Luke to hug him close.

Luke hopes Grogu doesn’t feel the shakiness in his hand when he places it to Grogu’s waist. He presses the kid to his side, glancing at Din every now and then to make sure it’s okay.

It takes him at least a few minutes to relax in Grogu’s embrace. The kid’s small fingers are playing with the buttons of his shirt, the action figure in other hand. Gently Luke moves his hand around so he can take Grogu’s wrist in his. It almost surprises him how thin it is—he can wrap his thumb and index finger easily around it.

So small. So fragile. Luke has to bite back his tears.

“He likes you, you know,” Din whispers, taking him out of his thoughts. Luke looks up and realizes that Din’s eyes are solemn. He wonders if Din knows that Luke never really had a family growing up—he never had a father to hold him like he’s holding Grogu now, never had a father to sit down with him to watch ridiculous and childish TV shows, never had a father who showed him affection because he was his son, not because he accomplished something.

Luke nods, rubbing the inside of Grogu’s wrist gently. “I like him, too,” he confesses, the truth of that statement surprising even him. In the last couple of months, both Din and Grogu managed to sneak their way into his heart and wake something inside him, something he thought he didn’t have the ability to feel. _Love._ “I would protect him with my life, Din.” There’s no hesitation behind his words. If Vader ever found out about this family, if Vader ever tried to hurt them in any way, Luke would lay down his life before he let that happen.

 _You could leave them,_ a voice whispers in his head. _That would surely keep them safe._ Luke’s arm tightens around Grogu and he discards that thought. Din wants him here, he reminds himself. Din trusts him with Grogu. Din invites him to dinners. Din looks for an alternative job for him, knowing he’s been struggling with his. And Grogu…

Grogu likes him. Grogu sometimes chooses to play with Luke instead of his father. Grogu places action figures in Luke’s lap whenever he thinks Luke is upset. Grogu…chose to cuddle with him now when Din was right next to them. And Luke doesn’t want to let go of that.

“I know,” Din says genuinely, his smile wider now. He reaches forward seemingly impulsively and moves a tuft of Luke’s hair out of his eyes. Luke tries not to shiver under the touch. “I would’ve been happy with any roommate that covered the rent, but I’m glad it was you.”

Luke thinks back to his life at Vader’s place. The lack of privacy, feeling like he was walking on eggshells all the time, the quiet and uncomfortable dinners, the punishments… He has to look away, but he nods. “Yeah. Me too.”

* * *

When Luke gets a text from Vader asking him to join him at the house, he assumes the worst.

Din’s not home, but Luke makes sure to send him a quick text before leaving, anxiously waiting for the answer. It’s nothing serious—just letting him know that he won’t be home for the rest of the day. The purpose of it isn’t informing Din anyway.

It’s to make sure Din’s okay.

When Din answers, relief washes over Luke, and if he makes a pitstop at Grogu’s kindergarten to see him play in the garden with his friends, no one needs to know that. At least whatever Vader is up to, he’s not hurting Din or Grogu.

The second option is that Vader discovered his work with the FBI. Luke doesn’t know what to feel about how that bothers him significantly less than something happening to his makeshift family. It’s possible he’s walking to his potential death, but he’s just relieved that Din and Grogu are safe and okay. 

Vader isn’t out to greet him when Luke pulls up in front of the mansion. One of his bodyguards search Luke for weapons—as if he would be stupid enough to have one in front of Vader—before leading him up to Vader’s office. He walks in tentatively, shoulders tense but face blank, and stops in front of Vader’s desk.

When Vader looks up, his face is soft. Luke let himself relax slightly. When Vader is angry, it’s easy to tell from his eyes—they shine like golden flames. Now, they look milder, calmer. The man even offers Luke a smile when Luke bows his head slightly.

“Father.”

“For a while, I thought you wouldn’t come.” Vader’s tone is friendly, but Luke hears the hidden threat behind it. _Next time, don’t make me wait._

Vader quickly slips into his work persona before he even asks Luke about how he is. There’s a file in front of him, and Luke recognizes it as the one he handed his father last week. Vader thanks him for the information, letting him know that everything checked out. They’re going ahead with the drug deal.

Luke winces when he remembers the ingredients in some of those drugs—definitely not the kind of thing you’d want on the streets. He knows the FBI is aware of the deal and he really didn’t have any choice but to deliver the file if he didn’t want to be exposed, but it isn’t easy knowing that a potentially lethal drug will be released in the streets and he had a hand in it.

Vader seems pleased, though, meaning Luke gets away without a punishment. The older man does give him another name to track, asking that Luke get access to his personal computer. Luke nods, slipping the sedative vial and the person’s file into his briefcase. He knows he won’t use the sedative.

He never does. Not even when it would make things easier. The implications are just too disgusting.

It’s right as Luke turns around to leave that Vader stops him. “How’s your new house?” Luke freezes and makes sure he schools his features before he turns back to his father. “Who did you say you were staying with? I forgot to name.”

Luke very much doubts that Vader did forget it. Bile rises in his throat, but he gives the name anyway. It’s a test, and he knows it. “Din Djarin.” 

“Ah, right. And you said he had a son?”

Luke is pretty sure he didn’t, but with Vader’s resources, it wouldn’t be hard to find. Grogu’s wide, brown eyes swim in front of Luke’s vision. He thinks about Vader getting to Grogu, kidnapping him, using him to force Luke into submission—

He gets rid of those thoughts. No. He wouldn’t let Vader hurt his newfound family. Keeping his face blank, he focuses on Vader. “Yes.” His voice is completely blank, only thanks to years of practice.

“That sounds sweet. Maybe I should pay you guys a visit. See how they’re treating you.”

 _No!_ Luke’s heart screams, and it’s an effort to keep still. He clenches his fists next to him, shifting from foot to foot. “Father, we made this arrangement to ensure they couldn’t tie me back to you.” Vader’s eyes harden at the words, and Luke quickly rushes on. “Din doesn’t suspect my involvement in your business. No one in the apartment does. But if someone were to recognize you, it would put my position in jeopardy. I’m completely anonymous right now. Isn’t that what we wanted?”

Luke can tell that Vader doesn’t like it. He stares at Luke for a few more seconds, as if trying to decide whether Luke means every word or whether it’s a way to avoid him coming over. At the end, it seems like he decides it’s the former. With a sigh, he leans back on his chair.

“You’re right.” He turns to the file in front of him, dismissing Luke with a shake of his hand. “Don’t disappoint me, son.”

Luke hopes that Vader missed his quiet, relieved sigh as he leaves the room.

* * *

The last time Luke had a nightmare about Vader, he was 24.

It was ten years after he started working in Vader’s crime business, and five years after he turned himself to the FBI and instead became a double agent. The first few months after he switched sides, he had a nightmare every night, waking up soaked in sweat, his father’s fiery eyes swimming in front of his eyes as he tried to shake off the nightmare.

He spent those months terrified that Vader would discover him.

After a while, though, those nightmares started to lose their effect. Luke likes to think it’s because he got used to the business, even though a part of him knows it’s because the thought of death didn’t scare him anymore. At some point, he stopped caring about what Vader would do if he was discovered. How much pain he’d have to endure before he was killed.

He has a nightmare the night he visits Vader.

This time, the nightmare is different. He isn’t the main character—it’s Din and Grogu, curled up on the floor, cold and bruised and weak. Din’s arms are weakly wrapped around his son and he’s whispering empty promises, even though Luke knows nothing will come out of it. Vader is here. He feels it in his bones. He doesn’t have to turn and look to see Vader walk up, dressed in all black, gun in hand.

Din doesn’t even get the chance to beg for his son’s life before the gunshot rings in the room. Luke wakes up with a startle, a silent scream escaping his lips, and it takes him a few seconds to realize where he is.

He’s at home. In his bed. He’s safe. Vader’s not here—Vader won’t come here, won’t risk exposure, no matter what he says. Din and Grogu are safe from Vader.

They’re safe. They’re—

Luke scrambles out the bed, not even bothering to wear his slippers. He hesitates in front of Din’s bedroom, fingers hovering over the handle. The clock shows that it’s 3 am, way too late to be waking either of them up.

But Luke needs to know. He needs to make sure that they’re alive, they’re okay. His fingers wrap around the handle and he opens the door gently, slipping inside through the crack before too much light spills into the room.

It takes a while for his eyes to adjust to the room. Luke’s eyes fall on the bed, to Din’s figure resting in the middle, chest rising and falling. The blanket is tangled around his legs and even under the dim light he looks peaceful. Grogu, for once, is curled up in his own bed, his arms wrapped around the frog plush Luke gifted him, his curly mop of hair spilled over his forehead and eyes.

Tears fill Luke’s eyes. Din’s alive. Grogu’s alive. Vader didn’t get to them.

Luke is just about to turn around and leave when he hears Din’s voice. “Luke?” It’s quiet and sleepy. He turns to Din to find him blinking, as if he’s trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness, and his gaze falls on Luke. Guilt churns in Luke’s stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, hoping his tears aren’t audible. “I was just…” _What?_ He can’t tell Din he had a nightmare about the man’s death. Grogu’s death. Not without explaining the context. “I was just about to leave,” he says instead, stepping back.

“Luke,” Din stops him, fingers wrapped around the blanket. Luke can see hesitation on his face, but then his eyes soften and he pulls back the blanket. “Join me?”

Luke freezes, and then his heart starts to hammer against his ribs. He looks at the empty spot in Din’s bed, and a part of him aches to accept the request. He knows it’s dangerous, to let himself get even more wrapped around Din and Grogu’s life knowing it can all fall apart in the blink of an eye, but he can’t help it. He moves to the bed and awkwardly lies down next to Din, putting as much space between them as possible.

Din throws the blanket over Luke’s legs and waist, eyes still watching Luke’s face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. Luke tries and fails to blink away his tears before he turns to Din.

He wants to say yes. He’s already worried Din a lot—too much, in fact. Din has a child and he has a job—he doesn’t need to deal with Luke’s breakdown on top of all of that. But he’s next to Luke, his eyes are wide and genuine, and Luke’s lower lip begins to tremble.

He shuts his eyes, but Din doesn’t let him look away. Instead, he wraps one arm around Luke’s shoulders and pulls him to his chest, letting him bury his head to the crook of his shoulder. Luke’s fingers curl around Din’s t-shirt, legs tangled around Din’s, and he lets the silent tears fall.

If Din is bothered, he doesn’t say anything. He hugs Luke through the tears, through his breakdown, gentle fingers running through Luke’s hair. Despite himself Luke relaxes and in a matter of minutes, he falls asleep, tangled up in Din’s embrace.

He doesn’t even stir until noon.

* * *

Two days later, Din and Grogu come home with a giant frog plush. It’s hastily wrapped in a happy birthday wrapping paper, the nose poking out from one side. Grogu gives it to him, watching him open it up with a grin.

“It helps me with bad dreams,” he says when Luke stares at the plush for way too long. Luke looks up at Grogu, the plush held tightly in his hands, and a knot settles in his throat.

“Thank you, kiddo,” is all he manages. Grogu doesn’t seem to mind anyway. He gives Luke a quick hug before rushing into the living room, putting on his favorite channel on TV.

Luke stands up, the plush still clutched in his hands. Din has a soft expression on his face. “I might’ve told him you had a nightmare,” he explains. “He insisted we get you this.”

“Right.” _If only they knew what my nightmare was about._ “That’s… That’s very nice of him.”

There’s a short silence. Then, Din leans in, voice quieter. Luke forgets how to breathe for a second. “You can always wake me up if you need anything. Okay?”

Heat rises to Luke’s cheek when he remembers how he fell asleep in Din’s arms. Din didn’t seem to mind, even leaving a sweet note to Luke telling him to call if he needed anything, but Luke doesn’t think he’ll be able to let go of the shame for a while. He nods regardless. He doubts he’ll ever wake Din up again.

“Thank you.” Din searches his eyes and nods before he joins Grogu in the living room.

The plush stays on Luke’s bed, close enough to cuddle if needed.

* * *

****TRIGGER WARNING** Mentions of rough slightly non-consensual sexual content, non graphic description of injuries**

Luke’s last target liked it _rough._ And when Luke wakes up the next day, he feels sore all over. He moves to the bathroom and glances at his reflection only briefly before turning the shower on.

He doesn’t need to look too long to know there are handprints on his waist, bruises on his neck and arms, and nail marks down his shoulders. They aren’t even that bad compared to the soreness in his lower back and ache in his legs. He knows he’ll be limping for a few days, at least.

After the shower, he doesn’t bother putting on his clothes before he moves out into the living room. He only wraps a towel low around his waist. It’s a Friday; Din is most likely at work and won’t be home for a while. At least Luke can enjoy not having to wear clothes over the marks on his body for a while.

Except the moment he leaves his room, he comes to a complete stop. Din is in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and drinking coffee. Luke isn’t quick enough to rush back into the safety of his room before Din’s eyes turn to him.

He freezes, his coffee cup in the air. Luke wants to hide, except he can’t move. His feet seem to be frozen and he can’t even lift his hands up to cover himself. He knows what he looks like, and he knows for Din, there’s no forgetting that.

He wonders whether Din will think he likes it rough. Whether he thinks Luke asked for it. Somehow, that thought makes bile rise in his throat. “I can explain,” he rasps out before the shock on Din’s face turns to disgust. Before Din looks away and tells him to _cover up,_ damn it. Or worse, teases Luke about it. He opens his mouth again, but the explanation just dies on his tongue.

What is he supposed to say anyway? Without explaining his work with the FBI, his work with Vader, it’s impossible to explain why he looks like he’s been roughly thrown around in bed.

He watches as Din stands up slowly, coffee cup discarded on the counter, and moves to him. Luke shivers under the intense gaze, crossing his arms over his chest to cover up whatever he can. Even if it’s too late.

Din stops almost five feet away from Luke, as if he’s afraid to get closer. His fingers twitch next to him before he looks up at Luke’s eyes. “Who did this to you?” he chokes out, eyes dark and wide. Luke blinks, surprised.

Din looks…horrified. And that’s the last reaction Luke expected. He’s looking at Luke like he thinks whatever happened, Luke didn’t ask for it. Like…Luke’s been raped.

A shiver runs down Luke’s spine. He tightens his arms around his waist and shakes his head. Two tears slowly run down his cheeks. “Don’t ask me that,” he begs. “Please.” His voice is too quiet and he can’t look at Din. Instead, he focuses on a spot on the floor, holding his breath.

He expects Din to press him for answers. Or just turn away and go back to his coffee as if nothing happened. Instead, Din steps forward, hands hovering around Luke’s head. “Can I touch you?” he whispers quietly.

Luke glances up at him. Din’s eyes are filled with warmth and love, and something breaks inside Luke. He nods, letting more tears spill down his cheeks. Din captures them with his thumb, wiping them away. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to Luke’s forehead, over his damp hair.

The fingers, the lips… They’re so soft on Luke’s skin, as if Din is trying to make up for whoever handled Luke roughly, whoever bruised him all over. Luke finds himself leaning into the touch. “Let’s take care of you, okay?” Din murmurs, fingers brushing his hair away from his eyes. His eyes find Luke’s. “Is that okay?”

Luke doesn’t think he can speak. He just nods. Din leads him into his bedroom and sits him down on the bed. It takes him less than a minute to grab a first aid kit and some meds, and then he kneels in front of Luke. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” He searches Luke’s face one last time, and then starts working.

Tears keep streaming down Luke’s face as Din takes care of his wounds. His touch is cold due to the cream, but warm electricity shoots through Luke’s veins wherever Din touches. At first he keeps his gaze away, but after a while he turns to Din, watching him work. Din’s brows are furrowed in concentration, lips pressed into a tight line, but otherwise his face doesn’t give away his thoughts.

Luke desperately wants to know what he’s thinking, even though he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s when Din moves to the nail marks on his back that Luke opens his mouth. “It wasn’t rape,” he whispers. He clings onto that thought, even when it feels too much like a lie. “She had my consent.” And that’s true. Luke was the one that convinced her to invite him home. It was his _job._ It was consensual.

He catches Din’s eyes when Din leans back to look at his face. He knows Din doesn’t believe him. Still, Din smiles and nods. “I know.”

“I picked her up from the bar—" Luke presses, but Din is quicker.

“Luke.” He puts the cream aside and ducks his chin to catch Luke’s eyes. “I _know_.” Luke knows it’s a lie. Or a half-truth. It doesn’t matter. Luke knows Din won’t press the matter, won’t ask him to explain anything. Tears fill his eyes all over again.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, fingers playing with the edges of his towel.

He fully expects Din to leave once he’s done bandaging all of Luke’s wounds. Instead, Din pulls back the blankets for Luke and helps him get into the bed. “Is it okay if I join you?” he asks. Luke shuts his eyes and nods.

The left side of the bed dips under Din’s weight. Luke crawls next to him, fingers grasping onto Din’s t-shirt like he did that first night he had a nightmare, and Din wraps a gentle arm around Luke. His free hand curls around Luke’s head, fingers carding through his damp hair, and Luke lets himself relax.

Deep down, he knows Din won’t hurt him. Not like her.

Not like all the other targets Luke had to flirt his way into a hookup.

Din’s presence grounds him and despite not feeling tired at all, Luke feels himself drift off into a short nap.

When he wakes up merely an hour later, Din’s still there.

* * *

That night, before Din goes to bed, he asks Luke to join him. It’s an innocent request, and Luke knows it. Din doesn’t mean it _that way._

He wouldn’t mean it that way after what happened.

Refusal dances on Luke’s tongue, but for some reason, he can’t get the words out. He curls his fingers around the blanket over his crossed legs and nods.

This time, Luke is the one that pulls Din close when they’re in bed. Din doesn’t seem to mind at all.

* * *

Grogu wants to braid Luke’s hair.

The request comes out of the blue. Din and Grogu rush into the house the Friday afternoon, Grogu’s backpack dangling from one shoulder. Luke looks up from the couch to greet them, only for Grogu to jump to his lap.

Luke hides his wince behind a smile and hugs the kid close. “Hey, kiddo. How was your day?”

Grogu looks over at his father briefly, before he turns to Luke. “I learned how to braid hair. Can I braid your hair? I want to braid your hair,” he blurts out, fingers already playing with the ends of Luke’s hair already.

Luke pretty much freezes at the request. His first instinct is to say no—he doesn’t know how he would react to someone pulling at his hair— _like some of his targets_ —and he doesn’t want to hurt Grogu. Then he feels a presence right behind him, and Din places a gentle hand over his shoulder.

“He was going to do mine, but it’s too short,” Din explains softly. His fingertips brush Luke’s bare neck, and Luke shivers under the touch. “I’ll make sure he isn’t pulling too hard.” Luke stares at Din for a few seconds before turning to Grogu. The kid looks so giddy and excited, eyes pretty much pleading for Luke to say yes, that he can’t just refuse. He finds himself nodding.

That’s how he ends up sitting on the floor in front of the couch, eyes firmly focused on the TV, as Grogu sits behind him on his father’s lap. Din’s hands guide Grogu’s on Luke’s hair. Luke stays still, his hands clasped in front of him so he doesn’t do anything rash.

He expects Grogu to pull harshly. He expects his fingers to dig into Luke’s hair, roughly arranging them into whatever position he wants. Except, Grogu’s touch is impossibly soft, gentle fingers running through his hair, separating them into strands, pulling them into a loose braid before clasping them. He feels Din’s fingers in his hair every now and then, gently getting rid of the knots so Grogu can incorporate them into his braids.

Luke wonders briefly whether his mother would’ve taken care of his hair like that, too, had she lived. Vader certainly never did. The only time he ever touched Luke was to hurt him.

Luke’s eyes flutter close, and he shakes off the disturbing thoughts. Instead, he lets himself relax under Din and Grogu’s loving touches.

“It’s done,” Grogu says what could be hours later. Luke’s eyes flutter open and he feels the kid slide off the couch to stand in front of him. Grogu’s face splits into a wide smile. “You look so pretty.”

With a careful hand, Luke feels his hair. There are maybe twenty small braids clipped onto his hair, and for once, he doesn’t have to shake his head to get rid of the strands in his eyes. He offers Grogu a warm smile. “Well, you did it, kiddo. Of course it looks pretty.”

Grogu, after admiring his work for a bit more, announces that he’s hungry, rushing to the kitchen before he even waits for either Luke or Din. Luke is just about to stand up when he feels a soft touch on his hair. He looks back at Din, who’s still sitting behind Luke, his legs on either side of Luke’s shoulders.

“I hope we didn’t hurt you too much,” Din says, voice quiet enough so Grogu doesn’t hear. Luke smiles, moving one hand to his shoulder to hold Din’s.

“You didn’t hurt me at all. I think… I liked it.” He squeezes Din’s fingers before loosening his hold, but Din doesn’t let go. Luke’s heart leaps in his chest. Warmth rushes to his cheeks and Luke is pretty sure his blush is noticeable.

“It’s a good look on you,” Din comments, his free hand brushing the small tufts of Luke’s hair that managed to escape the braids. His hand lingers on Luke’s cheek as he slowly leans in, eyes focused on Luke, giving him ample opportunity to pull back.

Luke doesn’t. His eyes flutter close when Din’s lips press onto his. The kiss is so soft, so undemanding that he feels tears build up in his throat. He pushes them back, leaning into the kiss, squeezing Din’s hand that’s still in his.

Din pulls back a few moments later, his cheeks dusted with a light blush as well. His eyes shyly search Luke’s and a smile spreads on his face. “Join us for dinner?” he asks, voice quiet.

Luke mirrors his smile. “Sure.”

* * *

Somehow, in the next couple of weeks, Din’s bed becomes Luke’s as well.

At first, whenever Luke is home at night, he makes his way to his bedroom before Din stops him and invites him to his bed. Every time, guilt knots Luke’s stomach.

Every time, he says yes.

Eventually Luke stops going to his room, and Din stops asking. Eventually, Luke slips into Din’s room even when he’s home late and settles on the spot next to Din on the bed. Eventually, Luke moves his toiletries to Din’s bedroom and keeps a select few clothes next to Din’s in the closet.

Eventually, Luke stops expecting Din to kick him out at the drop of a hat.

Luke doesn’t exactly have a name for whatever is going on between them. The kiss they shared in the living room becomes a first of many. Luke never initiates anything himself but every now and then Din leans in for a kiss, and Luke melts into the touch. Whenever they’re sitting on the couch, Din wraps his arm around Luke’s shoulder and pulls him in, lips soft on Luke’s hair. Din presses a kiss on his forehead in the mornings before he leaves and pulls Luke into a gentle kiss after he comes home.

It’s… _nice._ So nice that Luke is almost afraid to ask what they are, so he doesn’t ruin whatever tentative relationship is budding between them.

(He doesn’t think about how it’ll certainly fall apart the moment Din discovers his real identity.)

It’s about three weeks after the first kiss that reality catches up with Luke. It’s during dinner, when Grogu pulls on Luke’s sleeve. “Dad, can you pass me the ketchup?”

Luke freezes. His eyes find Grogu’s, looking for a hint that he was calling to Din and not him. But no, ketchup is right next to Luke, and Grogu’s gaze was definitely on him when he asked for it. The kid wasn’t talking to Din. He was talking to _Luke._

“Dad?” Grogu repeats himself, brows raised. Luke snaps out of his stupor and nods, handing the ketchup to Grogu with shaky hands. He pointedly doesn’t look at Din—he doesn’t want to see the repulsion on his face. No doubt Din will have a conversation with Grogu after dinner, privately—he’ll tell the kid that Luke isn’t his father, that Luke is just a friend, and he’ll never be a part of their “clan of two”, as Luke heard Din call him and his kid before.

Luke doesn’t know why that thought upsets him so much. It’s not like he ever expected to be accepted into the family. It’s not like he’s Grogu’s father. And yet, he doesn’t hate the idea. He _yearns_ for it.

He’s quick to leave the table once his plate is finished, mumbling a quick thanks to Din for dinner. Even with the blood rushing in his ears, he hears Din’s chair move, and then heavy footsteps follow him into his bedroom.

“Luke?” Din stands by the door and hesitates, as if he doesn’t know if he’s welcome in. “Can I come in?” Luke wants to laugh.

“It’s your house,” he says, playing with the sleeves of his flannel. He only briefly glances at Din before he turns his eyes to the floor, focusing on a random pattern on the carpet.

Din seemingly decides he’s welcome, so he takes a tentative step forward. “It’s your room.” _Yeah, tell that to Vader,_ Luke thinks bitterly, but doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry about Grogu,” Din continues.

Luke’s eyes snap up to Din. “What?”

“I’m sorry that he called you ‘Dad’. We didn’t talk about it. I think… He might’ve assumed we’re together.” Din’s voice is still, but Luke is able to pick up the disappointment behind his words. As if… As if Din thought Luke would be fine with the name. As if Din _wanted_ Grogu to see Luke as a father. “I’ll talk to him about it. It won’t happen again.” Din ducks his chin and is about to turn around when Luke finally finds his voice.

“You don’t hate it?”

Din stops and blinks. “Why would I hate it?”

“You’re his father. Not me. I’m just… I’m just an intruder.” Din stares at Luke for a few seconds, confusion written all over his face, before his eyes harden. He closes the distance between him and Luke in two long strides and gently, very gently, takes Luke’s face in his. Then his lips are on Luke’s and Luke forgets what he was so worried about in the first place.

“You’re not an intruder, Luke,” he whispers when he pulls back, his breath warm against Luke’s lips. He rests his forehead against Luke’s, and Luke’s eyes flutter close. Din’s fingers trail up Luke’s neck and brush the ends of Luke’s curls. “Be my boyfriend,” he says, voice impossibly soft.

Luke’s heart stops briefly, and then it starts hammering against his ribs. He moves back to look at Din’s face, to make sure he’s not asking out of pity. His eyes meet Din’s, and he sees it in them—the pleading. Din wants him to say yes. Din wants _him._

“Yes,” Luke chokes out, pulling Din close. “Yes, Din, I’ll be—”

Din stops him with another kiss.

* * *

A week later, Luke meets Grogu’s teachers.

According to Din, they’ve been asking about this new figure that started appearing in Grogu’s drawings. Din shows Luke some of them, shyly explaining that he hid them because he didn’t know how Luke would feel about it.

Luke almost bursts into tears when he sees them. Grogu, drawing their family before Din and Luke started dating. Before they even kissed.

It’s as if Grogu knew they would end up together.

Grogu’s teachers give Luke a tour of the kindergarten, letting him even visit Grogu’s class briefly. Din stands by the door, arms crossed and a smile dancing on his lips, as Grogu introduces Luke to his class proudly as his second dad. Luke doesn’t remember the last time he smiled as much—even as one of the kids grabs his hair at some point and pulls, asking if it was a wig.

Luke is surprised that he doesn’t wince at that. Even more surprised that he finds himself laughing.

“Thank you,” Din says once they’re out of the kindergarten, having coffee at a nearby Starbucks. “It meant a lot to Grogu that you visited.”

Luke stares at Din for a while. “He’s family,” he whispers, testing the words on his tongue. Even after an hour of Grogu calling him Dad, the term still feels off to Luke. Not because he doesn’t want it.

He wants it too badly, and he rarely ever gets what he wants.

Then Din mirrors his smile, brown eyes swimming with happiness, and Luke feels his worry wash away. “Yeah,” Din says, reaching forward to hold Luke’s hand. He doesn’t say anything else, but his touch says it all.

Luke belongs with them. With their family.

He has to hide his tears behind his coffee.

* * *

It’s late into the night when Luke slips back into his house, the information he collected tucked carefully in a plastic bag in his pocket. He puts it into the bedside drawer in the extra bedroom before he slips into his.

His side of the bed is empty except for Din’s arm. It looks like Din tried to reach for him in his sleep and came up empty because he’s frowning, hand curled around the blanket. Luke gently sits on the bed and takes Din’s hand in his, slipping under the covers.

Din stirs briefly, frown deepening, but Luke quickly presses a kiss between his brows. “Shh, I’m here,” he murmurs quietly, carding his fingers through Din’s hair. “It’s okay. Just sleep.” Din relaxes under his touch, falling back into a calm sleep. Luke finds himself smiling as he watches and can’t help pressing another kiss to Din’s forehead.

He curls in his boyfriend’s embrace, one arm thrown around Din’s waist. Sleep comes easy to him.

* * *

Luke refuses to take another job with the FBI that would require him to seduce someone.

If they’re bothered or upset, they don’t say anything. They know Luke is their only chance at bringing down Vader, if ever. Regardless of what they need from Luke, they need Luke more. So they only put up a meek resistance before caving.

With Vader, Luke can’t refuse the jobs, but he does stop throwing away the sedatives. He’s willing to sacrifice whatever moral code he built over the years to ensure Din never finds him sleeping around with others. Luke still feels sick at the idea, but at least it doesn’t make him want to throw up.

Not like the thought of ever kissing someone other than Din does.

It’s weird just how wrong it feels, considering he’s been doing it for years before Din and never once he felt so bothered by it. It was his job, his responsibility. He rarely ever felt anything for his targets, and if he did, it was usually pity. To him, the hookups were nothing more than a means to an end—a way to get into people’s houses and dig through their stuff, get into their minds and have them confess their deepest secrets. Nothing more, nothing that could even be compared to what he feels for Din.

Except that’s why he can’t do it anymore. He can’t risk losing Din and Grogu, not even to bring Vader down. He dedicated his entire life to that mission; he won’t dedicate his family to it, too.

Maybe that’s what makes him careless—his desperate need to hold onto the family he built. Maybe it’s his reluctance to live a double life anymore. Maybe it’s none of those, and his luck just catches up with him after years of keeping his anonymity.

When he wakes up at the health center in FBI headquarters, the first thing he sees is the news. _Exclusive! Notorious crime boss “Darth Vader”s right hand is caught on cameras! Our resources identify him as Luke Skywalker…_

* * *

It’s oddly easy to slip away from FBI agents, considering how much of a disarray FBI is in now that their primary source for information on Vader is out to public.

Luke knows that he should’ve stayed. Whatever is going on, FBI is the only one who knows his true loyalties. He’s probably public enemy number one right now, considering Vader’s identity isn’t out yet—at least, not to the public.

He wonders how long it’ll take people to figure out Vader is Anakin Skywalker, Luke’s father. He wonders how angry Vader is at him right now for revealing his identity.

It’s weird how little he cares about that.

He feels numb as he walks through the dark, quiet streets, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He barely even pays attention to where he’s going or how long he’s been walking. It doesn’t feel that long.

It’s probably been hours.

He doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry when he finally finds himself in front of the familiar apartment. He walks in, head ducked to avoid the security cameras, and makes his way to the stairs. He wonders just how likely it is that Din and Grogu are still there.

This time, he does laugh at himself. There’s no doubt in his mind that Din packed his bags and took Grogu away the moment he found out the truth. The moment he figured out who his roommate— _boyfriend_ —was.

Luke bites down on his lip harshly to keep his tears at bay.

He should’ve seen this coming. He knew he was living in a fairytale the last few months. A fairytale in which he wasn’t Vader’s son, he wasn’t working with the FBI as a double agent—a fairytale in which he had a normal job and a loving boyfriend and a beautiful son. And Luke was stupid enough to believe he could get his happily ever after. Stupid enough to believe he could keep his newfound family after the truth was revealed.

Happily ever afters only existed in fairytales. And if anything, Luke would be the villain in one, not the hero. No one would stay after they found out about who he is.

Staring at the door in front of him, Luke feels something break inside. Suddenly, he wants to run away. He doesn’t think he can take it if he opens the door and Din and Grogu are not there. If Grogu’s toys aren’t scattered on the floor, if his backpack isn’t tucked at the corner of the living room, if his frog plush isn’t resting on his bed. If Din’s clothes aren’t left aside on his chair, if the morning’s dishes aren’t scattered on the counter, if the bed looks untouched.

If the apartment is bare.

The door blurs in front of him and he clenches his fists in his pockets to desperately stave off a breakdown. He tries to tell himself that he knew this couldn’t last forever. That Din would leave if he knew the truth and he’s just been playing pretend the last few months, living in a fantasy world to escape from his responsibilities.

Except it’s a lie. Lately, Din and Grogu became so much more than a fantasy for him. They became his ordinary, his rock, his _reality._ They weren’t an escape from his job anymore, the job was an unfortunate thorn in his daily life. In time, Luke stopped arranging his life around the requirements of his job and instead started fitting his job around his plans, around the time he dedicated to his family, the promises he made to them.

Luke realizes just how much of a staple Din and Grogu became in his life, only now that they’re gone and he can barely imagine a tomorrow without them. He stupidly fell in love with Din, stupidly believed he could be a father to Grogu, and the lies he’s been telling himself only caught up with him now.

Tears start streaming down his cheeks, burning the cuts there, but Luke doesn’t bother to wipe them away. He slides down the wall and wraps his arms around his knees, sobs threatening to rip out from him. A logical part of his mind tells his mind that he should probably leave, that it’s dangerous to be here and any neighbor could call the police at any second to have him arrested.

He can’t find it in him to care.

He’s so wrapped up in his own mind that he doesn’t hear the door in front of him open. “Luke?” He feels someone’s knee brush his legs, and then there are two gentle hands on his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face.

When Luke’s eyes meet rich brown ones, he thinks he’s dreaming. He clenches his hands to wake himself up, except his nails dig painfully into his palms, and Din doesn’t disappear. He lets go of one of Luke’s wrists to gently wipe his tears away and Luke inadvertently leans into the touch. The fingers on his cheek, brushing the ends of his hair feels so good that a choked sob escapes his lips when Din moves them away.

He half expects Din to stand up and leave him there. But then Din slides his fingers through his and tugs gently. “Let’s get you home. Come on.” He stands up, pulling Luke with him. For a moment Luke is unsteady on his feet but Din’s arm quickly wraps around his waist, holding him close. He doesn’t push Luke away when Luke’s fingers grasp his shirt, his face buried to the crook of Din’s neck. Instead, he presses a kiss to Luke’s hair, fingers gently carding through the strands.

For just that moment, despite how ridiculous it is, Luke pretends that Din still loves him just as much as he did before the truth came out.

* * *

****TRIGGER WARNING** Non graphic description of injuries**

Once Din brings Luke inside, he tugs the hood off of Luke’s head, fingers gently brushing his hair. Luke knows he must look a sight, with blood dried on his scalp and neck, staining the ends of his hair red. Din gently unzips his hoodie, revealing his blood-soaked clothes—the only clothing he had in FBI’s health center to change into without alerting anyone—and cut along his shoulder, visible through the torn sleeve. Din then takes off the hoodie, as well as the already tattered t-shirt, revealing Luke’s chest full of bruises and first-degree burns.

Din’s fingers gently brush the injuries, and Luke inhales sharply. He almost wants to ask him to stop, but the words don’t come to him. Not because Din is hurting him in any way—Luke is too numb to feel the wounds—but because he knows this can’t last. Din probably only invited him in to hand him his suitcase and demand that he left. He’ll lose Din’s gentle care, and he doesn’t think he can handle it if Din keeps touching him like that.

Din pulls Luke to the couch, seating him down, and then takes Luke’s face in his hands. “I’ll go get a med pack,” he says quietly, leaning in to capture Luke’s lips in his.

Before Luke can even respond he’s gone, and suddenly Luke feels cold. He shuts his eyes, counting the seconds before Din comes back, if he ever does—

He feels a gentle touch on his face. Din's fingertips trace Luke's cheeks and stop at his chin, tipping his head up. Luke's eyes flutter open and find Din's brown ones.

They're impossibly warm.

“I’ll clean you up, okay?” Din says, a wet cloth in his hands. Luke blinks for a few seconds, unable to register, until he realizes Din’s waiting for an answer. He presses his lips together and nods, turning his eyes away again.

Din gently places a wet cloth on Luke's face, cleaning off the dried blood, off the grime, the dirt. He then moves to his hair, rubbing gently against the dried red at the ends. He doesn't speak, but his touch says it all.

Luke is almost afraid to ask. "Did you see the news?" Maybe he didn't. It would explain why he’s being so gentle with Luke. So caring. Maybe there's a way to save this—

"Yes." Din stops for only a second before he continues, moving down Luke's neck. His fingertips brush the gash right under Luke's collarbone, sending shivers down Luke's spine. Luke almost wants to ask him to stop. Stop being so gentle. Stop helping him. Stop stop _stop_ before Luke gets used to it, before Din is ripped away from him.

"You know," he whispers, searching Din's face. Din's answer is a curt nod. Luke's eyes briefly flicker to Din's bedroom, where he knows Grogu is sleeping. His son is _right there_ , and Din's letting him into the house. Into their life. "Why did you let me in?" Luke blurts out the question. Din stops, the wet cloth hovering over Luke's bare shoulder. His eyes find Luke's blue ones.

"Because I know you." Din puts aside the cloth, and then cups Luke's cheek. Luke's eyes flutter close inadvertently. He loves the touch and hates it at the same time, hates it because it can't last, no matter how much he wants it to. "Luke. I trust you."

"You shouldn't," Luke chokes out. Din is silent for a while. Then, his thumb swipes away the tear that escaped Luke's eyes.

"You never gave me a reason not to.”

Luke’s eyes flicker open. Din is in front of him, a ghost of a smile on his face. He looks for signs of hatred, signs of lies, signs of deception—it wouldn’t be the first time someone lied about believing him to get something out of him—except there’s only warmth and honesty.

Din isn’t lying.

Luke’s vision blurs and before he can stop, tears are streaming down his eyes. He doesn’t see Din move, but then there are two strong arms around him, gently wrapped around so as not to aggravate his wounds, and he finds himself pressed against Din’s chest. He buries his head to the crook of Din’s shoulder, fingers clasping Din’s t-shirt tightly as if he’d just disappear if he let go.

Din only breaks the silence once Luke’s sobs die down. He doesn’t let go of Luke but he pulls back, just enough that he can look at Luke’s eyes.

“Your eyes are impossibly blue.” Despite himself, a laugh escapes Luke’s lips. It’s hoarse, it’s quiet, it isn’t unburdened, but it’s there, and pride flickers in Din’s eyes. He cups Luke’s cheek, fingers stoking the ends of his blonde curls.

“When you said you had a rough day at work, I imagined a broken coffee machine, you know. Not... _this_.” His eyes find Luke, and as much as Luke wants to look away, wants to bury his face back onto Din’s shoulder in shame, he can’t. “Do you want to tell me about it?

Luke shivers under Din’s intense gaze and has to look away. He knows Din won’t like the answer.

“I started working for Vader when I was fourteen. He’s… He was my father.” he murmurs, eyes cast down in shame. He feels Din still around him. “It took me a while to realize he’s hurting people. But after that, I switched sides. I started working with the FBI as a double agent. I couldn’t stand by and watch his crimes anymore.” Luke stops, nails digging into his palms. He knows it’s just dried blood under his nails, but he still sees red when he looks at his fingers.

He wonders whether he’ll stop seeing red, ever.

“Vader never found out about it. But I had to…keep the façade to make sure he didn’t. Follow his orders. That security footage on the news…” Luke shivers when he thinks about the burning building. He made sure everyone got out in time, but still… “He wanted me to burn the place down to get rid of evidence.” He’s silent for a while, fingers limp on his lap. “I understand if you want to break up.” 

Din’s arms tighten protectively around Luke. With a gentle touch, he tips Luke’s head up. His eyes are dark and serious.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he promises. “Luke, I won’t let you do this alone anymore.”

It’s something Luke heard multiple times before. Every FBI agent he talked to said the same thing at least once. Never once Luke believed them.

But looking at Din... Luke believes him.

Luke doesn’t know who moves first. It might be Din, whose hand moves to Luke’s back to pull him close. It might be Luke himself, who grasps Din’s t-shirt tightly and leans in. It doesn’t matter. In less than a second they’re kissing, barely any distance between them, and Luke feels drunk.

It's not their first kiss by a long shot, but for Luke it feels like one. Everything’s out in the open now, every little secret Luke kept because he was scared to lose Din is out there, and Din’s still here. Din’s here, Din’s kissing him, and Luke for the first time feels like he’s completely, unconditionally _loved._ Tears pool in his eyes but he pushes them away, afraid that it’d break the kiss. Instead he leans in, fingers desperately clinging to Din’s hair, wanting to get lost in the man’s arms.

He wants to stay here _forever_.

Luke only pulls back when he feels breathless, but he doesn’t go far. He presses his forehead against Din’s, letting a few tears slip from his eyes. Din’s hands are immediately there, thumbs gently wiping them away.

“Din, can you promise me?” Luke’s words sound desperate, but he doesn’t care. He leans back just enough to look at Din. “Can you promise that I won’t lose this?” He’s already lost too much. He doesn’t think he can survive another loss.

He knows it’s impossible for Din to predict the future, but Din smiles regardless. He presses his lips on Luke’s forehead and stays there, letting Luke feel every bit of his affection. He then pulls back, cupping the back of Luke’s beck.

“I promise, Luke. You won’t lose me.”

* * *

After staying in each other’s arms for what feels like hours, Din untangles himself from Luke to take care of the rest of his wounds. Luke’s heart drops only briefly when Din tells him that he packed everything up, before Din’s eyes catches him and he lets him know, in no uncertain terms, that Luke is coming with them.

“I have a place far from the city. We’ll go live there until everything blows over.”

Guilt churns in Luke’s stomach that he’s pretty much uprooting Din and Grogu from their life, but Din shuts him up with a kiss. His fingers trace the scars on Luke’s face. “You’re family, Luke. And families stick together,” he says.

And that’s that. Luke doesn’t argue.

The farmhouse Din mentioned is on a small hill, surrounded by a thin forest and a calm lake. It’s isolated enough that they won’t have to worry about neighbors seeing and recognizing Luke. Grogu apparently knows the place because he squeals the moment he sees the house and is pretty much the first out the car.

Din stops Luke before he can leave, too. “You know you’re worth this, right?” he says, eyes searching Luke’s face.

It’s an effort to keep his tears at bay, but Luke smiles and nods. He might not feel worthy himself, but he can see in Din’s eyes that Din’s not lying. Din thinks he’s worthy of it, and for that moment, it’s enough.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for FBI to finally launch their attack against Vader’s empire.

It’s three weeks after their move to the country house, and they’ve settled down into a comforting rhythm. Din wakes up early in the mornings and heads to work. He thought about taking time off, but Luke told him he had to keep appearances—if he suddenly cut all ties to his old friends, questions would come, and someone was bound to discover them. Din’s not happy about it—he claims his boss, Greef, would be more than happy to give him time off—but he agrees regardless, trusting that Luke would know how to stay safe better.

Still, every morning, he presses a light kiss on Luke’s forehead and leaves a sweet note on the bedside table. It’s as if Din knows how hard it is for Luke to wake up without him—how Luke still believes Din will pack up his bags and leave with Grogu at the drop of a hat.

Luke keeps all the notes carefully tucked in a box. 

In the meantime, Luke becomes Grogu’s makeshift teacher. Din in no uncertain terms told him that he’s not willing to let Grogu out until they’re sure none of them in danger, and _that_ Luke agrees with. Whenever he’s able to convince Grogu to actually sit down for more than five minutes, Luke helps Grogu with his colors and shapes, and even begins to teach the kid how to write. He also takes Grogu out into the garden and even the woods every now and then, enjoying the soft summer breeze and the greenery that they don’t get a lot of in the city.

Grogu, at least, seems to be enjoying himself. He loves spending time with Luke, and every time he calls Luke ‘Dad’, fresh tears burst into Luke’s eyes.

He can listen to Grogu call him Dad for the rest of his life.

When Din comes home in the evenings, they either make dinner together or Din comes with takeout, and then they have a late night picnic in the garden, in front of the makeshift firepit. Luke finds out that Din is oddly good at starting a fire, and they sit there until it’s so late that their eyelids are drooping. Luke lies down on the ground with Grogu, telling him about all the constellations he knows—he’s had an astronomy phase as a child—and Grogu swallows everything up, babbling about non-existent constellations and shapes he sees that Luke just doesn’t know how he comes up with. Still Luke nods, an ever-present smile on his face.

His eyes sometimes find Din over Grogu’s shoulder, sees the smile on the man’s face, and at those moments he truly starts to believe Din—that they both are worthy of this happiness, this…family.

And he might’ve been offended when he figured out Din never made smores when he had access to a completely functioning firepit, but they right that wrong the first night, and now smores become their staple dessert.

Despite knowing why they’re hiding out here, Luke almost doesn’t want it to end. So when Din comes home abruptly from work and turns on the news, Luke just feels numb. 

_Exclusive! FBI announced this morning that they arrested several key players in “Darth Vader”s crime empire, including the man himself, whom FBI revealed as Anakin Skywalker. The arrest comes just three weeks after Luke Skywalker was revealed as Vader’s right hand man. A statement from FBI this morning, however, clears the younger Skywalker from any wrongdoing. “He’s been working with us for the last nine years as an informant,” the head of the FBI revealed. “Without his help, this operation had no chance of success.”_

Luke knows that Din is giddy next to him—and it’s weird seeing Din giddy, as the man is usually very much calm and composed—but he can’t muster up that feeling. He just stares at the TV as the realization sets in.

He’s free. Free of Vader, free of his empire, free of his job from the FBI. Free to leave this house, live in the city, go out to his heart’s desire. And he…

He doesn’t want to.

“Luke?” Din murmurs, slipping his hand into Luke’s. He steps in front of him, brows furrowed. “I kind of expected you to be more excited about it.”

“I… I am,” Luke stutters out. “It’s just…” He clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to come up with the right words to say. “I just kind of got used to our life here. You know. It was…” _Domestic. Warm. Ordinary. Calm._ “Nice.”

Din’s frown softens. He moves his hand up Luke’s arm and cups his cheek, leaning forward to press his lips on Luke’s. Luke’s eyes flutter close and he melts into the kiss, fingers moving to grasp Din’s shirt.

“It doesn’t have end,” Din says when he finally pulls back. “It just means we have the freedom to do whatever we want.” Din’s eyes are warm as his fingertips brush the ends of Luke’s hair. “What do you want?”

Luke doesn’t even hesitate. “You,” he whispers. The words tumble from his lips easily. “You and Grogu. Forever. I want to be with you forever. Love you forever.” He glances up at Din through his lashes, an insecure part of him still afraid that his commitment will make Din run away. Instead, Din’s lips curl into a smile.

“I love you, too. Forever,” he promises before he dips his head, capturing Luke’s lips in another kiss.

And if they end up staying at the farmhouse for two more weeks before making their official move to the city, it’s Din’s fault that he took forever packing.

Even if Luke was definitely the last to leave the place.

* * *

One and a half years later, Din proposes.

It’s a very cliché proposal, and Luke sees it coming from miles away. Grogu isn’t very good at keeping secrets, and the moment the idea for a Disneyland trip was thrown around, the kid started eyeing Luke’s left hand every time they’re together. He even takes Luke’s ring finger in his once, wrapping his small fingers around it, as if he’s trying to gauge the size.

So when Din pulls Luke in front of Cinderella’s castle in Disneyland, Luke knows exactly what he’s planning. Tears still spill down his eyes when Din goes down on one knee, and then struggles to slip the ring onto Luke’s shaky finger. It’s stupid, it’s cliché, it’s sappy, and Luke loves it all the more for it.

Din asks about the wedding that night, when they’re curled on the bed together and Grogu’s asleep in the other room. “We can have it as big as you want to,” he murmurs, peppering Luke’s hairs with kisses. “Invite whoever you want.”

Luke stares at the ring for a solid minute, and then looks up at Din. “I just want you,” he whispers.

The next day, they stop at the city hall to get married.


End file.
